


Ero Perso (Before You)

by maxxrose



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempted Kidnapping, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Last chapter at your own risk, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Other, POV Bucky Barnes, POV Tony Stark, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Steve Rogers, Sorry Not Sorry, Threats of Violence, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-02-24 15:33:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22000255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maxxrose/pseuds/maxxrose
Summary: The Five Times Bucky Barnes and Tony Stark show each other their all-consuming, supreme, five-starred with no bad reviews, unsurpassable devotion and love to each other, everyone else in the room be damned.1. The One where Bucky can't stand people shooting cheap shots at Tony.2. The One where Tony gets sick of Bucky pretending he's not.3. The One where Bucky brings Tony with him on a mission, and instantly regrets it.4. The One where Tony surprises him.5. The One where Bucky plants a sunflower.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes & Tony Stark, James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark, Steve Rogers & Tony Stark, Tony Stark & Avengers Team
Comments: 37
Kudos: 215





	1. Chapter 1

**_1\. The One where Bucky can't stand people shooting cheap shots at Tony._ **

_On March 2nd, the day after Tony gets a new coffee machine for the penthouse, Bucky challenges the reporter on the TV to a knife duel, first virtually and then in real life._

It begins like this. 

The team is gathered on the kitchen island, sprawled in different places. Natasha and Clint lounges on the leather chairs that complement the ten thousand dollar marble countertops, and sip coffee with the lazy ease that comes with eating breakfast with family. Thor is huddled in the corner, wearing nothing but superhero boxer shorts that do nothing to hide the slope of his admittedly muscled ass, and Steve is at the stove, hand gripped expertly on the pan handle as he maneuvers eggs around the black surface like a complete professional. 

"Good morning," Steve announces to the room, slipping the scrambled eggs onto two different plates. 

Everyone replies with a non-committal 'good morning' as Clint and Thor begins attacking the eggs. 

Steve takes his apron and folds it neatly, eyeing his team with clear blue eyes. "Everyone, don't forget the Green Peace Gala this evening. Starts at five, we be there _by_ five, not two hours later," he says with a meaningful stare at Clint and Tony, and then continues, "Dress smart. That means _no sneakers."_ He adds, still trained on Clint and Tony, who roll their eyes in good nature. 

Bucky, on the other hand, is spread comfortably on a beanbag chair that dips in all the right places, with Tony cuddled in between his legs, arms wrapped around the middle and head leaning on his chest. 

Tony blinks bearily and yawns, and Bucky thinks it's the cutest thing ever. "Cawfee," Tony murmurs, his 'aw' stretching unnecessarily long. It does nothing to calm his racing heartbeat at the adorable sight. 

"Soon, baby, soon." Bucky says, nuzzling into the crook of Tony's neck and takes a huge whiff that sends his nose into overdrive. Tony's wearing nothing but an oversized sweatshirt that belongs to yours truly, and on Tony, it looks absolutely divine. "God, you're so fucking sexy in the morning, hm, doll?"

Tony arches his neck back to peer at his boyfriend with the fondness he only reserves for Bucky. "Babe, I appreciate the support, but I still smell like machine grease from last night."

Bucky wrinkles his nose, and presses it into Tony's soft, curly brown locks. "Why are you finding euphemisms for lube, sweetheart? I'm sure the team already knows," he says, shooting daggers at Thor's turned back. "Thor always asks to borrow our chocolate milkshake and strawberry-scented combo."

Tony twitches with a barely suppressed gasp at having their lube announced, as Thor spins around with a hearty beam. "Aye, friend Tony," the blond declares, pointing at Tony with a half-eaten poptart. "I do enjoy the chocolate. Very milky."

"Pairs nicely with sprinkles too," Bucky interjects helpfully and Thor nods in gratitude. 

Steve chokes on his glass of orange juice and casts a sidelong glance at Tony, who turns crimson in response and embarks on a quest to defend his honor. "It's not—It's not _milky,_ per se," Tony tries to say but ends up spluttering in distress, and it tugs at Bucky's heartstrings to see his love so flustered. "It's more of a faint, vanilla smooth scent with—"

"Nah," Bucky drawls and smirks in delight. "He enjoys milk, all right."

Thor smiles widely and on his way to the water dispenser, claps Bucky on the shoulder. "Friend Bucky is certainly a well versed man in the spirit of love and fertility. A fortunate man." he dips his head to Tony.

Steve sets his glass of orange juice down with gusto, and turns to stare beseechingly at Bucky and Tony. "I was unprepared for this." 

Natasha smiles around her coffee mug, blinks lazily at Bucky. "At least you're not on the floor below them. I've had to deal with countless sleepless nights," she says with a fractional raise of her eyebrows designed to appeal to Tony's guilt. 

"You're not any better," Clint intones with a sly chuckle. "I've seen men who leave your room whose backs look like they went hardcore wrestling with a mother tiger, and lost. It's red, deep slashes all over," he adds with a wistful shake of his head. "Probably scars. Hell, _I've_ been mentally scarred."

Natasha takes the spoon from her coffee, and chucks it at Clint, who yelps in outrage. "And how long have you been abstinent, my friend? I seem to recall it's not quite by choice." 

Bucky laughs outright at that, and moves to accept the cup of steaming coffee Steve hands over. He cups his hands around the warm mug, and then safely deposits it into Tony's eager hands, who has the stupidest grin on his face. It distracts him for a moment so he just ends up staring fondly at Tony, and then he glances back up at Clint, whose eyes are playfully narrowed. "What's the term... blue balls, is it?" 

Clint sniffs offhandedly and shrugs. "The girls just keep running away, man."

Tony takes a scalding mouthful of the black coffee, and barely winces. Bucky watches it happen, and feels the second-hand massacre of his tastebuds. "I have some new tech that might help," Tony mumbles around his second gulp. 

Bucky squints at the mussy back of his boyfriend's head. "What? What tech are you talking about, baby?"

"You don't need it," Tony says with a flick of his hand. "Clint, come to my lab in a bit."

"No, Tones," Clint leans forward, face curious. "What _is_ the tech? What do you mean, it'll help?"

"Could be the Viagra New Model 5000," Bucky supplies over Tony's head. "Your dick's gonna be the smallest guinea pig ever to test-run a drug."

Tony swats Bucky's arm halfheartedly with his free hand, and cants his head at Clint. "It's like a device that can read body language, see if the girl's dropping hints, flirting, what she's asking for subconsciously. Should help communication along. Then it's up to you to charm her. I'm just giving you the insider look."

"Did you honestly develop that just because Clint has no game?" Natasha asks, looking amused. 

"I'm going to give Steve one, too." Tony says, and grins at Steve, who groans in a weak attempt to reject Tony's brilliance. 

Clint makes an offended noise, kicking at Natasha's chair, and then almost falls from his own. Natasha snorts. "That's just rude, Nat. Tony's doing it for the good of the human race. He's a good man like that. Right, Tones?"

"Right." Tony says with an innocent smile that Bucky's seen many times, and essentially translates to ' _no, I just wanted to fuck around in my lab for shits and giggles_ '. 

Steve gives a long sigh, that conveys all of his misery in one breath. "How did we get to this? It's not even ten AM."

Thor laughs, and as usual, it nearly deafens them all. Tony startles a bit and some coffee sloshes onto his pants, and Bucky almost reaches to wipe it away with his hands. 

"That's not good problem-solving." Tony says matter-of-factly, watching his boyfriend reach around him to wipe off the coffee from his pants. Bucky's hands travel a little further than the inevitable stain, fingers trailing to the curve of Tony's inner-thighs. 

"No, because it's not a problem." Bucky says evenly, smiling. 

Tony laughs, a beautiful sound that Bucky falls more in love with every day, and nudges him off. "At least wait for lunch, muffin. We already did it this morning."

"Ooh, lunch? Can't wait." Bucky murmurs softly, his nose in Tony's neck. 

Clint makes a gagging noise, and slips off his seat. "You guys are disgusting." Then he walks to the adjoining living room, where he yells, "Disgusting!" 

Steve follows him swiftly, muttering some excuse, and then settles on the biggest armchair, grabbing the remote off the glass table. 

Natasha steps off her chair in a single movement, as languid and elegant as a feline, and pads over to behind Steve's chair. "Turn on the news," she says, sipping her coffee mug. Which is still half-way full. Bucky glances back to Tony's cup, which is unsurprisingly, inherently empty. 

"More coffee?" Bucky asks, because he's a gentleman, and tightens his hold around Tony's waist, snuggling closer. Tony is warm, soft and everything Bucky's ever wanted. 

Tony grins against his chest, and places a kiss on Bucky's nose. "Careful. I'm already swooning."

"Babe, at this point your panties are a pool on the floor."

"How crass of you," Tony says with a chuckle and twists around to capture Bucky in an open-mouthed kiss, pressing against him suggestively. 

The blood rushes to his ears, and with one hand Bucky takes Tony's empty mug and sets it aside, and whirls Tony around on his lap in order to deepen their kiss. Tony makes a quiet, pleased noise and leans into the kiss, and Bucky wraps his hands around Tony's hips and pulls him closer, and slips a little tongue into their make-out session. 

"Ah, fuck." Clint says, and tosses them an evil side-eye on his way into the kitchen to grab his forgotten cup of coffee. 

"You're cockblocking me, Barton," Bucky warns around Tony's mouth and flips him off. 

"Lunch," Tony promises with a small smile and gets to his feet, taking his empty mug to refill. Bucky groans in protest, dropping his weight back onto his elbows and watches his boyfriend saunter to the machine, pressing a flurry of buttons. 

"Tony, get in here," Steve says from the living room. He sounds concerned. "They're talking about you."

Bucky stiffens, jumping to his feet deftly. He waits for Tony to refill his mug, and they make their way over to the living room, where the team is watching the news. 

Tony takes a place on the floor, sitting cross-legged, and trains his eyes on the program. 

"There's been allegations of Stark Industries participating in illegal offshore weapons transaction deals," the reporter, a bitchy-looking young man in his twenties with bleached blond hair and brown eyes is saying on the screen, voice sharp with criticism. "But then again, we can't expect anything else from a multi-million dollar corporation that does nothing to give back to the community, and we can't expect anything from a greedy, haphazard and deviant man such as Tony Stark. Stark continues to hide out in his seventy-floor skyscraper, choosing to stay out of public eye. Howard Stark, a visionary, would be disheartened by the antics and revelations the young Stark has managed to throw into the news in the past years—"

Natasha takes the remote from Steve's pliant hand, and hits the 'mute' button. 

In unison, they all turn to look at Tony. 

"I'm going to kill that reporter." Bucky says as plainly and as factually as possible, posture rigid. 

The second that son-of-a-bitch reporter had mentioned Howard Stark, Bucky had seen Tony's eyes cloud over, and his back a little more hunched. Throughout the report Tony had sat stonily, taking the slander in with all the dignity and grace a man of his clout had endured, and looked relatively unbothered. 

But it bothered Bucky. 

It bothers Bucky how people who had never even talked to Tony could even dare to make outrageous assumptions and insults about his behavior, his character, without a second thought to the man he had become. And sure, he'd heard of Tony's wild younger years because who hasn't, but it was in the past. And Tony had become a wonderful, amazing man, who everyday, worked to find a solution to the world's global problems, and improve the lives of people everywhere with the fortune he had. 

"It's fine," Tony says, voice flat, brown eyes unreadable. "I'm used to it."

Steve frowns, looking upset. "It's not fine, Tony. They can't insult you like that. Not on national TV, and definitely not anywhere else—"

"Well, they do it anyway, don't they?" Tony cuts in sharply, and stares off into the distance. "It's fine."

"It's not," Clint says with a shake of his head, and Natasha nods in agreement. "It's bullshit."

"This is certainly disrespectful," Thor's blue eyes are bright, and he looks ready to throw on his armor. "I would be honored to _educate_ this discourteous reporter in your stead, friend Tony—"

"I will challenge him to a knife duel." Bucky declares, metal arm flexing as the machines whir within, and the tension courses up his spine. "If he can talk shit like that about my boyfriend, he can talk shit and face my knife." 

That brings out an unexpected laugh out of Tony, whose shoulders relax. "Knife duel? Baby, that's so Middle-Ages."

"Nothing like retribution from the past," Bucky winks back and drops to his knees to gather Tony in a hug, and Tony accepts it, and Bucky holds him close and tight. "I've always been an avid fan of their torture."

He's angry. He doesn't show it to Tony, thinks it wouldn't be a good idea, but he's fucking _angry._

And he can tell his team is upset as well, even though they don't outright show it. Steve's jaw is clenched ever so slightly, and Thor's frown trumps out Clint's hardened eyes, and Nat's fingers are dancing along the edge of her own favorite knife, tucked in her waistband. 

None of them will stand for one of their own being attacked. 

It's five-thirty, and they're already late for the Green Peace Gala. 

Steve is ushering everyone out the door in his pristine suit, and looks ready to blow a gasket. "Clint! You take off that fedora or I'm grinding you into dust, and get yourself in the car!" Steve shouts, pushing a half-dressed Thor out the door, and a disgruntled Bruce out as well, who unfortunately only resurfaced from his lab in time for the gala. "Tony, those shoes are _fine—"_

Bucky is behind Tony, and gives him a quick cuddle because he can't deny himself the opportunity. "Baby. You okay?"

Tony gives him a quick smile and pulls on his black shoes. "I'm okay, sweetheart," and he presses a kiss to Bucky's cheek, taking Bucky's hand and leading him out the door. 

The limousine is parked on the curb of the Avengers Tower, lustrous and shiny in the streetlights. Natasha opens the door to enter, her spaghetti-strap silk red dress hugging her lithe body in an enticing, elegant fashion. Her matching dark red stiletto heels are about the size of Bucky's full hand, and Thor is fixing his tie in the reflection of a puddle on the street. Bruce stands to the side, looking sleepy, white linen shirt underneath his suit already creased. 

Bucky slaps Tony's ass on their way out and behind them, Clint pretends to throw up. In a fraction of a second, Bucky whips around and Clint finds himself flat on the floor a moment later, courtesy of Bucky; who laughs about it. 

"Bucky," Steve says in a fed-up tone, hands on his hips in the doorway. A total mom move. "Get in the car."

"Geez," Bucky replies with a roll of his eyes and flicks his best friend's blond hair. "Loosen up, Stevie. I'll find you a nice dame tonight. Get your energy out quick."

But he gets in the car with Tony anyway, because Steve's nostrils are beginning to flare. 

Clint barrels in a second later, squeezing into the passenger seat next to Tony and winks, unveiling his suit to reveal a fedora. "Guys," he whispers, grinning. 

Steve audibly growls. 

They get to the Gala in about twenty minutes with speedy driving, through many ignored redlights, and the Avengers clamber out, giving some well-dressed men and women near heart-attacks at the sight of so many famous superheroes in one area all at the same time. 

Natasha, in her stunning red dress takes Thor's arm and they stride their way up the elegant stairs leading to a magnificent, Parisian style building with astounding stonework. There are tons of rich people milling about in expensive dresses and suits, and Bucky nearly chokes on the thickness of the perfume in the air. 

Clint takes the arm of Bruce and Tony, who laughs at the romantic gesture as Clint ignores Bruce's fleeting protests to make their way up the stairs to join Natasha and Thor in orderly fashion. 

Bucky glances at Steve, whose navy blue suit is strikingly handsome against his tall, blond stature. "What, punk?" He asks, nudging Steve's shoulder when he sees his best friend gazing distantly up at the magnificent building. 

"Nothing," Steve says with a small shrug. There's a smile curving his lips, though, and Bucky knows better than to let it go.

"I'll tickle you. Right here, right now. I'm not above a public spectacle." Bucky says, checking his nails, and Steve gives him an offended look. 

"Fine," Steve sighs as they walk up the stairs to join the team. "I was thinking of someone. I...I've been seeing a girl." And he blushes. 

Bucky stops in his tracks, places a hand on Steve's shoulder in shock. It's mostly to keep himself from falling backwards from the news. "You're seeing a _girl?_ What? When did this happen?" 

"A month or two ago," Steve says quietly, blue eyes glowing. "We met at a coffee shop. She's great, Buck. A writer, beautiful, kind and funny. We get along splendid."

Bucky slaps his best friend's shoulder, and narrows his eyes. "Why haven't we heard about it? And why didn't you invite her here as your date?"

"It's too early to meet the rest of you," Steve argues with a chuckle. "You guys aren't the most easy-to-handle group. I want to have a stable relationship with her first, get to know her better." 

"Don't lump me in with Clint, Tony and Thor," Bucky says, waving his finger. "Come on. _What?_ It's been years since you dated, Steve."

"You'll meet her soon, Buck," Steve promises with a smile. "You'll be the first."

"I better be," Bucky says as they reach the team, and leans in to give Tony a peck on the lips. "Hi, doll."

"Hi," Tony says and stands on his tiptoes to kiss Bucky's nose. "Missed you."

Clint sighs. "Tony, Bucky was four meters away from you. _On the stairs."_

"What," Tony shoots back playfully, and squares up to his friend. "You wanna have at it, birdbrain? Let's go."

"Alright," Clint returns, snapping out his fedora. "Let's—"

"Absolutely not," Steve interrupts and snatches the fedora away, ignoring Clint's cry of protest. He hands it to the waiting doorman, and slips him a twenty. "I never want to see that thing again."

"Murderer," Clint mutters under his breath, and it's only when Tony whisks him away into the doors of the Gala that he relents and follows. 

As a group they enter the ballroom, and Bucky pauses to take it all in; the stiff ties and suits that belonged to the most esteemed characters of New York, the entire room bathed in the soft glow of golden and silver in the form of a grand chandelier dangling from the center of the ceiling, surrounded by great works of art that resemble Michelangelo's rendition of the Sistine Chapel. The air is drunk with the heady scent of champagne, and the sparkling flow of gowns as a beautiful man and woman twirl past, to the gentle lilt of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. 

Bucky glances past the flow of expensive bodies swathed in nothing but New York's finest, and pins down Tony, in the center of the ballroom, already surrounded by lavish party guests who clearly want to take his boyfriend's time and attention. Tony, clad in his best suit and formal shoes, is clearly an expert at wooing and charming his way through delighted patrons and Bucky has never been more enticed by the pretty smiles, empty praises, and the well-choreographed dance Tony has tumbled through ever since he was a child. 

Seeing so many people milling around his boyfriend, fingers trailing over Tony's shoulders, it awakens a primal sense of _want_ in his belly and Bucky's heart squeezes in his chest when Tony catches his eye and winks, smiling. 

_Love you,_ Bucky mouths to him, and Tony blows back a discrete kiss before another business man approaches him. 

Tony tips the champagne back into his throat and his eyes are glittering, while Bucky starts making his way over to the booze counter, keeping an eye on his boyfriend at all times. He knows that Tony needs these Galas to impress, charm and persuade the rich, into giving their money for causes that he's invested in. The Green Peace Gala is for environmental purposes, and while it's a dignified reason to be here, Bucky would really rather much be at home, with Tony cuddled in his lap, sipping hot chocolate to Die Hard. 

But oh well. 

He takes a spot at the bar, and motions to the bartender. "Whiskey on the rocks, please." 

"Right away, sir."

Once he has his drink in hand, Bucky continues to survey the grounds. 

Steve is dancing with a dame, a pretty young thing with blonde curls and pearls, and while he's engaging in polite conversation with her in response to her airy giggling, Bucky can tell Steve also despises these stuffy, bureaucratic charity galas as well. He tips the glass in Steve's direction, and his best friend suppresses a chuckle, whirling the dame in an elaborate dance twirl Bucky in no way understands. 

Natasha is also dancing, partnered with a man too rigid for her taste, but to his credit he looks absolutely taken in with the beauty that is Natasha and is blabbering compliments. Natasha looks bored, her smile artificial. Bucky watches as Natasha does a spin on her six-inch heels that makes Bucky momentarily scared for her ankles. 

Thor and Bruce are together, and are entertaining a group of party guests that look somewhat bearable. Thor is no doubt telling a legendary Asgardian story about riding golden rhinos into battle against a seven-meter tall snake monster, and slaying it with his hammer. Bruce, on the other hand is nodding along religiously, but Bucky's content to see that he's soon approached by some science-y looking young men who immediately piques Bruce's attention. 

Clint, is marching towards him, hands going up to his tie every five seconds. "I hate this," Clint grumbles in frustration as he takes the seat next to Bucky, and they stew in negative energy for an appropriate amount of time. 

"Good news; we have three more hours left." Bucky says, then orders another whiskey for Clint. 

"Thanks," Clint replies and they knock glasses. Bucky's is nearly empty. "If I'm going to survive tonight, I'm gonna need at least four more of these pretty little guys."

"Look at those girls," Bucky says, voice a little flinty as he nods his head in Tony's direction. There are two young women, scantily clad in respective red and gold dresses, looking too flirty and touchy for his taste. Tony looks vaguely uncomfortable, which in Tony's terms mean _very_ uncomfortable, and is clearly trying to ward off the insistent advances. 

"I'll be here." Clint says in understanding and raises his glass. 

Bucky nods and sets off, striding his way to his boyfriend. Tony's eyes widen in gratitude once Bucky's near, and with one hard look he sends the two girls skittering off to somewhere else. Bucky takes ahold of Tony's waist, leaning into his boyfriend's space. 

"Hey, baby," Bucky murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to Tony's stubbled cheek. "Gettin' through the night?"

Tony grins, kisses him back. "Now that you're here. My hero."

"Come on," Bucky says, taking Tony's hand and leading him out to the dance floor. "Let's dance."

"That way people know I'm yours?" Tony breathes into his ear as they start to move, bodies close together. 

"They don't need you to dance to know that you're mine," Bucky whispers back and lifts his hand to do a twirl. 

Tony laughs, a breathtaking sound, and they move gently to the music, hands around waists and shoulders. Bucky takes a whiff of Tony's alluring cologne, and is enamored by his boyfriend all over again. 

Then a hand taps on Tony's shoulder, and they turn around and Bucky's ready to tell whoever it is to fuck off because it's _his_ time with Tony, but then he sees it's the man from the TV casting in the morning. 

He's wearing a chunky linen suit, clearly unfitting, and that mop of bleached blond hair is coiffed up. 

"It's you," Bucky says, and it almost sounds like a snarl. 

Tony places a calming hand on Bucky's chest, and turns his face to the reporter. "Hello, what do you want?" He asks politely, _too_ politely. 

"How'd you even get in here?" Bucky says, hands clenching into fists. "What do you want?"

"I'm Dan, Dan Carrey. I want an exclusive interview with Mr. Stark," the reporter says offhandedly, ignoring Bucky and moving up into Tony's space. "Mr. Stark, are the allegations true about Stark Industries performing illegal weapon deals, going against your policy of no weapons since 2013? What about the sweatshops that one of our sources, an employee from _your_ company, says you undoubtedly abuse? And—"

"Oh fuck off," Bucky says, because he's had it. He won't stand by while Tony, and everything Tony's worked so hard to build, is attacked by a slimy piece of shit like Dan Carrey. "You don't know jackshit," he snaps and pushes Tony behind him, stepping in front of the reporter. "Get out of here."

"You are in no position to threaten me, Mr. Barnes," Dan icily replies and maneuvers around Bucky, locking eyes with Tony. "Do you make a habit of encouraging this kind of aggressive and turbulent behavior in your close quarters, Mr. Stark?"

Tony's gritting his teeth, but Bucky knows he won't respond to the jab. "You can't come in here making wild accusations, Mr. Carrey. If you want an interview—"

"You're not getting a fucking interview," Bucky interrupts and holds himself up in all of his towering height. He's one second away from punching the idiot in the face, but for Tony's sake, holds himself back. People are starting to notice the commotion, and Clint is looking concerned by his place at the bar and Steve is already heading towards them. "Say one more word, you'll be fighting me. With knives."

Bucky slips out his handy pocket knife, because that's all he needs to skin this bastard from head to toe, and flips it open expertly. 

Tony puts himself in between them, trying to meditate the argument, and says in a voice that books no room for protest, "Mr. Carrey, I'm going to have to ask you to leave." 

Dan Carrey looks intimidated, mouth tightening in fear at the glint in Bucky's eye that has decidedly sent Hydra soldiers running, but doesn't back down. "Mr. Stark, in your opinion, do you think you've honored your father's esteemed memory, when in contrary much of the evidence against your company, and especially your character, suggest that you—"

That's it. 

Bucky, in a split second of elevated maturity, pockets the knife, takes one step forward and punches him in the face with his flesh hand. 

Dan Carrey reels from the hit with a pained shout, and falls to the ground in one fell swoop, hand scrabbling on the marble floor as another hand shoots up to his broken nose, where blood is dribbling down his chin. Bucky, still reverberating with anger, doesn't even feel his knuckles hurt because he pulled so much of his punch, and itches to give Carrey another. 

Tony's eyes are wide as he rushes past Bucky and over to the fallen reporter, as the surrounding guests encircle the three of them, whispering and talking amongst themselves with blatant curiosity. 

"Agh," Dan Carrey moans in pain, still clutching his bleeding face, pushing himself away on the floor. 

Tony reaches down to help, but the reporter slaps him away, still making pitiful noises of agony. 

"Bucky," Tony says beseechingly, brown eyes swimming with worry. "Why'd you do that?"

"He was being a self righteous dick," Bucky replies and pulls Tony away, securing one hand around his waist and another on one on the small of Tony's back. "He deserved it."

Steve pushes through the crowd forming, and takes his place beside Bucky, asking urgently, "What happened?"

"That's the reporter from this morning," Clint says, having materialized behind Tony. Clint places his hands comfortingly on Tony's shoulders, and glances at the reporter, distaste clear in his expression. "I bet he said some stupid shit."

"He did," Bucky acknowledges with a shrug. "Sorry, Tony. Sorry, Steve. But nobody gets to talk about Tony like that."

"Aye," Thor agrees, squinting down at Carrey. "You should be punished."

Natasha is downright staring at the reporter, her green eyes quietly challenging. "Bucky's right."

"Hm," Steve says, frowning. He doesn't say anything else, which is where he usually reprimands Bucky, so Steve is clearly on their side and Bucky takes that to mean he can get away with hitting the reporter. "Did you have to do it in the Gala, Buck?" Steve adds dryly, leaning onto the ground and handing the reporter a handkerchief, which is ungraciously accepted. 

Tony bites the inside of his mouth, and waves a hand at the crowd around them. "Nothing to see here, please move along."

"What a Gala," Steve mutters and claps Tony on the shoulder, lending silent support. 

The crowd begins to disperse, albeit slowly and unenthusiastically, as the guards begin to enter the ballroom in search of the conflict. 

The reporter is standing up, white shirt splattered with drops of blood as he glares balefully at Bucky. "I'm sueing you," Dan Carrey says, voice shaking with anger and embarrassment but Bucky can't take him seriously like this. "I'm sueing you for assault. I'll fucking ruin you."

Steve rolls his eyes at the same time Tony steps forward and says, "You come after him, I'll slap you with a libel and slander lawsuit so hard _you'll_ be ruined. Don't test me," Tony continues, calm and sure. "Because you won't win."

Bucky grins. 

He's got Tony Stark on his side, and that counts for the whole world. 


	2. Chapter 2

_2\. The One where Tony gets sick of Bucky pretending he's not._

"Bucky..." Tony says, voice ending in a whine. 

"What," Bucky replies, dragging out the 'a' with a wide smile. 

"Please just drink the fucking soup."

Bucky pulls up the blanket to his chin, snuggling down in resolute stubbornness. "No."

"Why?" Tony asks, mystified, because he's really losing his nerve, and it's honestly insane how Bucky can get under his skin so easily. He puts down the small bowl of soup, careful not to spill any on his boyfriend's chest (even though he sort of wants to) and on the bedside. "Bucky, _why?"_

"Because," Bucky tells him, matter-of-factly. Like it's so fucking _clear._

"You're acting like a child," Tony says, struggling to keep calm. He dips a spoon into the soup, and then with one hand, holds Bucky's chin in place with strength he doesn't know he has, and then despite Bucky's small whimpers and strangled 'no' forces the spoon inside. "There. Was that so hard?"

Bucky, because he is insufferable when sick, just glares at him beseechingly like Tony's just stabbed a puppy in his face and thrown the body on his face. And then, out of the corner of Tony's eye, Bucky's hand comes up and swats the spoon from Tony's hand. "That was the hardest thing I've ever done in my life," Bucky rasps, emphasizing the 'life'. 

Tony's mouth drops a little open. "You've literally brought down government organizations, defused a never-seen-before bomb under one minute, foiled the plans of some very bad bank robbers, not to mention you've gotten _Natasha_ to give back the Shelby car to that asshole, and you say _soup is the hardest?"_

"Yes."

"Fuck you."

And then Bucky sneezes right into Tony's face. "I would, honey, I really would. But I'm not sure how much strength I have right now, because my throat is just _dying_ and it feels like a cat's rotting in there, and my foot fucking hurts for some reason."

" _You're_ rotting in my throat," Tony grumbles, folding his arms. 

"That was a good one," Bucky says, laughing. It's the sick sort of laugh, really scratchy and just sounds terrible in general. "Really not. You're cute when you're mad."

"I'm not mad." 

"Sure," Bucky says, and reaches forward to poke Tony in the ribs and grins. "Come here, give papa some love, please."

"No," Tony says, and pushes Bucky's face away good-naturedly. "I don't want your germs. They're probably Supersoldier germs. Would kill me in seconds."

"That's scientifically incorrect," Bucky lectures, adopts on a stern voice that fails. "Bruce would be disappointed in you. He's always going on about... about science stuff. Magnets. Gravity. The apple dude. Fuck, Tony, you're gonna break his goddamn heart."

" _Magnets?"_ Tony asks, chuckling, brown eyes delighted. "Is magnets science to you?"

"This is unfair," Bucky croaks, and then cuddles back right into the warm bed. He pulls up the sheets to his chest, and then shoots Tony an evil side-eye. "I'm on withdrawal, I can't answer hard science questions."

"Withdrawal?" Tony murmurs, leaning forward till he's kind of on Bucky's lap. And then Tony kisses him, soft and deep, and Bucky relaxes into his boyfriend, tingles crawling up his back in the best way. "What withdrawal, baby?"

"Your kisses," Bucky says, sitting back with a huff at the loss of Tony's weight. "It's messing up my smart brain cells."

"I doubt that," Tony says and kisses him on the forehead gently like a mother would its kitten. It just melts Bucky's heart. "You're fucking sick, sweetheart, will you just sleep? I promise it'll get better. You'll be all nice and healthy in a few days, and you can _finally_ fuck me up a wall like you wanted to before you got sick and cockblocked yourself. So for both our sakes, will you drink the soup and _sleep?"_

"That's a new tactic," Bucky says approvingly. "Using the sly mention of sex to make me submit, it's smart, but it's expected of you. But no. I will not relent. I will not give in. I must make my parents proud, fight the system. _Vive la resistance!"_

"Argh," Tony hisses, and glares at him. "You know like zero French, and _that's_ what you want to say? Bucky, please just listen to me. Soup. And then sleep. It's not much. Come on, baby," and then he gets down on his knees and looks at Bucky would round brown eyes that have _way_ too much influence on him. "Do it for me?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Bucky sniffs back an incoming wave of snot, and then blasts out a wet cough that has Tony shrinking away in faint disgust. "I'm not fucking sick."

"That's it," Tony says, mouth thinning into a straight line. "I don't know why you're suddenly denying shit, but I'm not sitting here any longer. _Steve!"_

Bucky's face goes pale. "What? _Why? Steve?_ Take that back!"

"He's had more experience treating your punk ass long before me," Tony says, a wild (evil) glint in his eye. "He's been doing it since you were _kids._ Get fucked, Barnes, prepare to digest the soup and submit to _sleep."_

"You wouldn't," Bucky gasps, in mock horror. And then coughs. "You evil bastard."

"Who called me?" Steve opens the door to their room, looking neat and well kept like he always does. Bucky gives a startled shout and disappears under his blankets, creating a massive bundle under the sheets. It's like watching a ginormous armadillo try to hide. "What's up, Tones?"

"Bucky's sick. Bucky won't drink the soup or sleep. Fix Bucky." Tony says evenly, and gestures malevolently to the bowl of undrunken soup. 

It's quiet for a long, tortured moment, with Bucky poking his mussed head out the blankets and staring expectantly at Steve's prone figure. Steve is standing, looking thoughtful and like he's about to make an important decision. Tony's getting impatient waiting for Steve to do the right thing. 

And then Steve goes, at last, "Bucky's not sick." 

Then he leaves. 


	3. Chapter 3

**_3\. The One where Bucky brings Tony with him on a mission, and instantly regrets it._ **

The battle isn't even that important, just some scumbag with a funny hat and a magic stick pretending to be the next Big Bag like he's some damn antagonist in a movie. These so-called, half assed villains are the worst of the lot, Bucky thinks, and no one can change his mind. A few civilians have been hurt, none have been killed, and it's worth noting the fact SHIELD has already contained the whole thing to the Park and the Avengers are barely needed. They're really just there for decoration at this point, lazily swinging stuff at the screaming magician hovering two feet in the air—which is why Tony gets snippy.

"Can I just throw a trash lid at this clown like a damn Frisbee and we can all go home?" Tony complains into the comm, and Bucky glances backwards to see Tony holding said trash lid, held out like a weapon. Is it crazy he actually looks threatening? Must be that damn flight suit, Bucky reassures himself, squinting against the light. 

"Tony, you have the shittiest throwing range out of all of us." Natasha deadpans, coming to a standstill nearby the water fountain. A spark whizzes past them, blows up that same water fountain and Natasha scowls angrily, brushing off pieces of concrete from her bodysuit and waving dust from the air. "Someone take him down or I'm shooting his ass."

The magician careens dangerously in the air in front of them, pointing the end of his stick at the team, shouting some sort of obscenity that is completely inappropriate for a park. "...you will bow to me! I am—" is all Bucky really understands from the whole display. 

Clint notches an arrow, aiming it directly at the still shouting magician. "Please. Let me bury an arrow in his butt."

"No I have dibs!" Tony says snidely, and Bucky groans, running a hand through his hair. This will never end. "The only thing going in his butt is that stick he's waving around," Tony announces and switches on the repulsors under his boots. "What's he even saying, and does he realize no one gives a rat's ass? God, he's like Steve in our debriefs."

Clint sniggers into the comms, and Steve just sighs, leaning against the wooden bench, looks at _Bucky_ like it's somehow his fault Tony is a national disaster. 

"Wait," Bucky says, shooting a worried look at his levitating metal boyfriend. "We don't know what he's doing at the moment. Don't risk it."

"Stand down, Iron Man," Steve intones calmly. 

"I don't control the trash lid, Steven, it listens to no man. And it's telling me it wants to knock into that guy's head. Who am I to say no?" Tony wields the trash lid again, spinning it around his fingers like a glorified basketball. Bucky stifles a laugh at the sight, hopes at least one newscamera catches American icon and symbol of protection Iron Man playing with a trash can lid. 

Natasha makes an aggravated noise. " _Steve,_ it looks like he's trying to throw a spell or something."

Steve shakes his head, frowning under his cowl. "SHIELD is telling me to stand down, something about observing a magic-user in his own space is beneficial to something they're working on right now. We have no orders to engage with this man unless he stages a physical attack on us."

"Sounds like what they're working on is a load of horseshit," Tony says with a slow, metal shrug of the suit. Bucky loves watching his boyfriend do things in the suit, especially normal shit like shrugging. It's his jam. "Because any information _that_ guy could give them, _I_ could give them in an hour if they gave me a computer and a Wikipedia page on Magic."

"A whole hour?" Clint chuckles, fingers still latched onto his bow. "Tones, you can do better than that."

"No, you're right," Tony concedes, humming. "Steve, tell SHIELD to give me ten minutes, a computer, and a Wikipedia page on Magic so I can front this guy with my metal lid and we can all go the fuck _home."_

Steve makes a noise in his throat that sounds a lot like pain. "Bucky," he says beseechingly. "The worst thing is I can't argue because Tony _can_ probably give them the information they need in ten minutes."

"Well if he's going to use reasonable, understandable _logic,_ then I don't know what I bring into the relationship anymore." Bucky confesses. "Fighting with Tony is like fighting with a giant tree, except there are thousands of trees around you and they're _alive_ and they're smacking your ass into the ground with their branches. Tony, Tony is like that. Don't fight it, Steve."

Tony laughs. "You heard him. I am a tree. Thank you for coming to my TED talk, everyone."

"Not that I'm not enjoying this team bonding," Natasha breaks in, voice faintly amused. "But I have a pot of stew cooking on the stove at home, and I'd really like to know if I should call the fire department soon or not. Honestly, are the Avengers even needed here?"

A chorus of blatant 'no's' comes through the comms. 

The magician lets out a violent scream like he's mad because absolutely no one is paying attention to him, and there's a swirl of purple like sparks in the air and several things all happen at the same time at once. The stick crackles with electricity and Steve is telling everyone to move in because SHIELD is finally done with whatever bullshit they needed the magician for, and Natasha is already vaulting over fallen logs and ready to break this fucker's neck with her legs, Clint is pulling the string on his bow taut and Bucky is aiming his gun for the guy's crotch when a metal trash can lid flies across the air, in a beautiful arc and hits the magician in the skull with a dull thud, leaving everyone stunned and frozen in their steps. 

The magician topples onto the floor, legs splayed like a dead tortoise, lets out a groan and passes out.

Steve starts ranting into the comms about proper _etiquette_ in arresting bad guys, but again, no one is listening. Clint bursts out laughing, gasping for breath as he slides to his knees, bent over. Natasha crouches on the floor, eyes closed like she really would like to be somewhere else. 

Bucky looks at Tony. 

Tony looks back at him, faceplate down, and grins. "Did you really see me holding a trash can lid and _not_ throwing it, honeybuns?"

Bucky walks right over to him, grabs his boyfriend by his metal shoulders and kisses him.


	4. Chapter 4

"I don't want a birthday party," Bucky says, for the last time. It's obvious Tony refuses to listen, if holding his hands over his ears is any indication. "They're obviously redundant. Why celebrate that I'm closer to dying than ever?"

"Now," Tony says, sliding cup of water over the table. It nearly wobbles out of control, and Bucky narrows his eyes at his boyfriend. "I'm not saying there's a party. Because they're definitely isn't. Don't look at me like that! I swear, we didn't plan anything." Then Tony pauses suspiciously long, and then sighs. "But to counter your last point, we get closer to dying any time we go on a mission. But we always celebrate after a good one. With shwarma. How is that any different?"

"Because we wouldn't be celebrating with shwarma, there would be cake with ostentatious candles instead," Bucky says. "You guys would sing me a birthday song. I wouldn't know where to look. My hands would awkwardly be in my lap. Where would I look? At the singers, or at the cake? Do I clap?" He glares harder at Tony. "You see why it would be a disaster?"

"Ostentatious," Tony says, and smirks. Bucky tries not to sigh. "Big words, you been reading my dictionaries baby? I love it."

"You said it one morning and I had to search up what it meant," Bucky says, scowling lightly. "That's not the point. The point is, I don't want a birthday party."

Tony holds up his hands, adopting the most innocent expression on his face. Bucky is _not_ buying any of it. "There isn't! Why are you so confident I planned anything?"

"It'll be awkward, Tony. I don't even like cake."

Tony widens his brown eyes comically. "Heathen. You're a heathen. But that's fine, I'm attracted to rebels. Buck, baby, during a birthday song, the birthday person just claps along. They sing along. It's normal!"

Bucky's scowl deepens. "They sing to themselves?"

"Your voice will get lost in the crowd!"

"Give me a party, and I can't promise I won't walk right out," Bucky threatens. He finishes the water in the glass in one gulp, all the while keeping direct contact with Tony's eyes. 

"Sure. Walk out all you want," Tony says. "There won't _be_ a party to walk out on."

The waiter sidles up to their table, and probably sensing the mood and ongoing intense eye contact occurring between Bucky and Tony, quickly deposits the pile of pancakes on the table and scatters off to the next booth.

Bucky squints. Tony grins. 

He watches as Tony grabs at the pancakes like they're his lifeblood, and snatches a bottle of maple syrup from the left, popping off the cap and squeezing. Then he's horrified, watching as stream after stream of thick maple syrup pools onto the pancakes.

Tony keeps staring at him like he's daring Bucky to make a comment about it. 

Bucky will. "The syrup is drowning the pancakes."

"It's a reasonable amount," Tony tells him, squeezing harder. "I like syrup on the side with my pancakes."

Bucky watches with growing fear as the mountain of syrup doubles in size. "That's syrup, with a side of pancakes."

Tony sniffs, and puts the bottle down. Bucky breathes out in relief. Tony stabs a pancake with a fork and the amount of syrup that dribbles off literally makes him queasy. "Honey, I stood by you when you said you didn't like cake. But I will _not_ stand by as you disrespect the best thing Canada has to offer."

"I didn't say anything," Bucky mutters. "So we're agreed. No birthday party?"

Tony stuffs another pancake in his mouth, chewing and grinning. "Absolutely."

"Why don't I believe you?" 

"I don't know," Tony says around his mouthful of his third syrup-pancake. "Trust issues? We all have it. I don't know why none of the Avengers ever go to therapy, either. All of us probably need it. _I_ go to a shrink once a month. It's just the responsible thing to do."

Bucky smiles, and tries not to laugh. "Yeah, after years of active persuasion. And you scared off like twenty shrinks."

"Process of elimination," Tony tells him haughtily. "Mrs. Morgan can deal. That's why she's the best."

"No arguments there," Bucky agrees, because it's Mrs. Morgan. No one disrespects Mrs. Morgan. Mrs. Morgan is a precious soul and if anyone tries to hurt the old little lady that helped Tony get over the bulk of his PTSD trauma, Tony _and_ Bucky will lay waste on the enemy. Mrs. Morgan is off limits. 

"So." Tony says, and Bucky suddenly notices more than half the pancakes are gone. 

"So," he says, drawing the syllable out, trying to work up the courage to take away the diabetes ridden pancakes from his boyfriend before Tony goes into inevitable cardiac arrest or sugar seizures, if that's a thing. "Hey, can I have a bite?"

Tony's fork freezes mid air. "You don't like syrup."

Bucky grins, makes a reach for the plate. "I like pancakes."

"Uh," Tony says, cautious and wary as he braces the plate close to himself. "Nah. I know you, Buckaroo, you don't like syrup. Are you just trying to—"

And then Bucky snags the plate from him in a flash of movement, and Tony's alarmed, trying to grapple it back but Bucky's just snatched the fork from him and stuffs each of the disgusting, syrup pancakes into his mouth and does his best to chew as little as possible and swallow it all. Tony stares at him, conflicted like he doesn't know whether to scream or cry. 

Props of being a supersoldier with an appetite to match. 

Bucky closes his eyes at the lasting taste of sugar in his mouth. And then gags. "Tony, that's _disgusting._ How could you ever eat that?" His stomach gurgles in protest, probably appalled at the damage Bucky has just done to it. _Sorry,_ he tells his stomach guiltily. 

Tony rolls his eyes. "Serves you right, babe. That was a robbery. I'm an Avenger, I could arrest you right now."

"If you decide to press charges, please make sure I get to a hospital first."

Tony laughs at that, eyes twinkling. "I'll be your nurse, make sure you're getting the best premium care our city has to offer."

Bucky snorts. Tries not to smile. "Whatever. As long as I don't get a birthday party."

After a cup of coffee each, the two of them begin to make their way home to the Tower, and Tony's walking with his arm interlocked with Bucky's, chattering about something electromagnetic something or the other. Bucky's content to just walk along, arm pressing against Tony's, listening, his heart buzzing with a strange comfort and warmth at the mundanity of it all. The air is breezy, buffeting past his face gently.

Then Tony stops short, and Bucky nearly rams right into him. "You know, I'm feeling like a burger stop. Can we get one before we go back?"

Bucky frowns, thumbing the skin on Tony's collarbones. "You're still hungry?"

"You love those burgers," Tony says earnestly, already pulling him towards the diner across the street. "Come on. Loli's Burgers? You'd kill for one."

Bucky glances across the street, to his favorite diner. Okay, the temptation is definitely there. Then his stomach suddenly rumbles, and Bucky lowers his eyes exasperatedly to Tony's triumphant face, who has a radiant grin on his face. The hunger courses through his body, and Bucky sighs fondly. 

"Alright, alright," he tells Tony, as his boyfriend pulls him across the street and in front the diner. "I _do_ love these burgers. Should we get some for the team, too? I know they like it too."

"We don't have to," Tony says almost giddily, and the smile on his face is too big, and Bucky's already suspicious, looking around warily just before Tony yanks the door open and pushes him inside. Bucky almost trips in the front doorway, and turns to protest but then Tony gestures him ahead and he sees Steve, Natasha, Bruce, Clint, Rhodey, Vision, Wanda, and a few other people all gathered around inside the empty diner, with party hats, party blowers in their mouths, and identical grins to Tony on their faces. 

"Happy Birthday!" they chorus, and Tony bowls him from behind, wrapping his arms around Bucky's waist. 

Bucky's speechless. 

Tony cackles. "Surprise?"

The only response to that, Bucky wordlessly draws Tony into his arms and hugs him tight, and then his family is crowding in around him, Steve's blond head pops up on the right, Natasha's slim arm wraps around Tony's shoulders and Bucky's arms, Clint crows from behind, and the rest of them are jumping up and down and shouting unintelligible phrases in the air. 

It's perfect.


End file.
